


Morning Comes

by Sookiestark



Series: Reveries at Riverrun [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:49:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: Jaime thinks about the night after he was knighted by Ser Arthur Dayne.





	Morning Comes

Jaime is in a tent outside of Riverrun. He has come here to end the siege of Riverrun and make Brynden Tully release the castle. The Freys have fucked up the whole mess, but he is here to clean it up at the King’s command. King Tommen needs a peace before winter starts. As the Starks would say, if there were any still alive… Winter is Coming.

In the early morning light, he wakes hard against the mattress. He runs his left hand against his cock, hard and sensitive. It feels good. He has had some issues with touching himself since he lost his right hand, his good one.. but like everything the body could relearn and accommodate.

He shut his eyes to conjure an image a fantasy. In the past, it had usually been Cersei, usually above him with her golden hair unbound and glorious like a goddess, but recently it was not her face and body that would come to him when he took himself in hand on mornings like this. 

The first was the Maid of Tarth. He tall strong body looking down with her large blue eyes, always critical, always seeking his honor and challenging him to be better. Her calloused hands around his cock awkward and hesitant pulling him as her chapped lips closed over the head sucking softly. The huge scar from the bear ..He would see her look up at him with those big blue eyes while gently trying to bring him off and he would spill every time.

The other was his secret love. Before Cersei, before she had seduced him and pushed him into joining the Kingsguard so they could be together. Before his body had been told that she was the one thing he had wanted. Even though he knew it was unnatural and wrong, he had loved Arthur Dayne, completely. 

He doesn't really know how to feel about either one being the images that could make him spill quickly and breathlessly in his hand. He wonders if it is because his world is changing or if he is just old. 

His love for Ser Arthur had started as hero worship and what fifteen year old didn’t worship Arthur Dayne, the Sword of Morning. To see him fight was to witness a miracle, all grace and chivalry, with strength, and a smile that would make his seem dim. It was all strength and masculinity. It was marvellous. 

Small looks, glances and smiles. Small words of encouragement, practicing. He had met him in the Kingswood when they had gone to defeat the Brotherhood. Ser Arthur Dayne was everything a knight should be. He was handsome, loyal, true, kind, a defender of the weak, strong. He wielded a sword of renown from an ancient house and he was sworn to protect the Prince who was his friend from childhood. 

The way the small folk would trust him call out his name, bring him warm loaves of bread, eggs fresh milk. His smile and his purple eyes shining. His chivalry was renown, even when the Smiling Knight sword broke, he gave him another sword and continued the fight. That was the day Ser Arthur Dayne had knighted Jaime Lannister. Kneeling in the mud as bright green grass pushes up all around him. Jaime feels his heart might burst with the pride as ser Arthur Dayne knights him with the Sword of Morning. At that moment, Jaime knew he was destined to be as great a knight as there ever was.

Tonight, the celebration is inside Felwood castle. Lord Fell was very generous and well pleased that the Kingswood Brotherhood has been defeated. He has invited notable lords, knights, and the Kingsguard to celebrate with a feast in the castle. Tomorrow, they will ride to King’s Landing and tell the King of their victory. Tonight, the Kingsguard, the knights, and squires who risked their lives protecting the realm would like to celebrate in the fantasy of thinking the King is not mad and delusional. 

Jaime comes from the baths to the feast, freshly washed and in Lannister red and gold. He is the heir to Casterly Rock and is seated at the High Table with Lord Fell, his children, members of the Kingsguard and other Lords. There is music, wenches, and good brown ale that makes his face numb. There is dancing and drinking and the night grows late. 

Ser Arthur Dayne has been looking at him all night. But finally, he gets up and comes over to him. The way Arthur looks at him makes his heart race and his stomach hurt. Jaime flushes awkwardly, afraid that his face is an open book. He is nothing like his father or Cersei who plot and show no emotion. All his emotions are on the surface of his face. 

Arthur smiles at him and leans in. “Come with me. I need help.”

Jaime follows him, looking around to see if anyone notices. It is late and most are too busy with a wench or a cup to worry about him. Jaime follows behind him three steps behind. Lord Fell must have given him a room in the castle, Jaime has a tent outside with the Crakehalls.

Arthur shuts the door and locks it. “I need help with my armor.”

Jamie wonders where his squire is but helps him with the removal of his armor. There is a ritual to it, helping a man take his armor off. The belts and straps, over and under, peice by peice. In candlelight, he works silently like a priest at prayer. Finally, it is all off. Jaime helps him lift his arms and take off his tunic. Arthur’s air rushes from his mouth from the pain. The bruising on his left side is extreme and Jaime runs his hands ghosting over the bruise. His fingertips burning from the heat of Dayne’s body feeling the ridges of his muscles and the valleys of the space in his ribs. Jamie feels his mouth water. 

Jaime hears Arthur make a sound and he looks up at him all wide green eyes, expecting him to laugh at him or punch him in the face. Arthur looks down at him and smiles tracing the edge of his jaw. Jaime kisses the spot lightly, then licks it tasting the sweat and heat of his skin. 

“Come here” Arthur says. Arthur pulls Jaime to his feet. Together, they take Jaime’s clothes off, a burning rush of arms and clothes pulled off and delicious kisses that make him ache in a way kisses never have before.. Jaime steps out of his pants, one leg at a time.   
“I never,” Jaime whispers.  
Arthur face is soft. “We all start there.”   
Arthur quiets him with his kiss firm hot demanding. His tongue licks his mouth and it is needy and aching for release. Arthur reaches down between them and rubs Jaime’s cock, which is already hard and straining. He feels his hand grab his back and bring it to him… hardness unyielding.. he has kissed Cersei and once he kissed Lysa Tully, but they were games compared to this.

Arthur is taller and stronger than him. Arthur takes his chin in his hand looks into his eyes, purple into green and stops his words with a kiss. He licks his lips as he pulls away. “You are beautiful,” he smiles.

Jaime would like to say all the things he feels, but instead he kisses him back.

Jaime starts licking Arthur’s neck and collar bones. Jaime rubs his fingers down his body and takes the head of Arthur's cock in his mouth. He is unsure of how to do this well. After all, he is Tywin Lannister’s son, he should do everything well, whether wielding a sword, reading, or sucking a man’s cock. He stifles a giggle and realizes he might have drunk more ale than he thought. Tentatively, he puts his mouth around the tip and licks around the head. Arthur has his hand against his face and Jaime hears his face, “Look at me Lannister..”

He looks up and Arthur is pure desire, heat, and his hand guides him to take more of his cock in his mouth. The rhythm is punctuated by Arthur’s breathing, his hand in Jaime’s golden curls, and the look in his eyes. Jaime likes the way Arthur tastes, how he feels him pushing into the back of his throat, the way his hips thrust. He feels like he is giving obeisance to this knight, who deserves so much reverence. It is veneration, and it is the least he can do to show him how much Arthur means to Jaime. 

Arthur pulls him up and kisses him.   
“What now?” Jaime asks almost eagerly.

“Get on the bed.” 

Jaime looks at the bed and climbs on the mattress on all fours. He feels exposed and vulnerable with his ass in the air, but Arthur says he is magnificent and kisses his body. Arthur places his calloused hands on his hips. Jamie tenses. He knows that this will hurt and his body braces for it. Arthur leans over him, “Lannister, say the word and I will stop.”

“Don’t stop.” 

Dayne hovers against him and Jamie can feel the press of his cock against his ass. He kisses Jamies neck and bites it, as he trails down his back. The steady press of his hands keeps him in place as Arthur drags himself to Jaime's back end. He feels the heat of Arthur's breath against his ass cheeks but the feel of his tongue against his ass is both delicious and a startlingly wonderful sensation. Jamie’s body bolts from the forbidden and intense sensation of the other man’s tongue against his asshole. Instead, Dayne’s hands push him back against his tongue. The provocative feeling makes Jaime moan. He hears Dayne tell him “Touch yourself, Lannister,” as he licks the bottom of his balls.

Jaime does as he is told and feels slightly submissive as he strokes himself and thrusts shamelessly against the strokes of Dayne’s tongue. Dayne pulls away and puts one hand on Jaime’s back as he takes a jar of oil and rubs it on his cock and against his ass. “You like that didn't you?”

Jaime nods, unable to speak.

Arthur puts one finger in him. He moves it gently, making him wider for his cock. Arthur puts another finger inside Jaime. Jaime moans into the pillow. Arthur’s fingers press in and Jamie feels his body uncontrollably thrust against it, over and over. He feels the tightness as he pulls the finger out and pushes his cock slowly and completely inside him. Jaime has stopped touching himself. Both his hands are on the mattress and his breathing is shallow and rapid. There is so much sensation. Arthur licks his neck and takes Jaime’s cock in his oily hand. “Gods,” Jaime says, a plea. 

Arthur thrusts occasionally, but is focused mostly on taking Jaime in hand and making him spill. It doesn’t take long. There is so much intense sensation. When Jaime does, all over his hand, Arthur kisses his neck and then starts thrusting deeper and harder, relentless. It hurts but the thrusting feels good and hearing the sounds Arthur makes, the breathless sounds are as good as is his hands pulling his hips against him, closer. The last second there is a strangled sound from Arthur and he feels him spill his hot seed inside him. Arthur pulls out carefully and takes a towel and wipes himself and Jaime, before he lies down next to him. 

All night they lay together, laughing and talking and telling stories. They have sex once more in the dawn and Jaime goes back to the Crakehall’s tents with made up stories of spending the night with two girls. How they laughed at that story. He remembered feeling like he had dishonored Arthur by lying but how could he ever tell them where he really was. 

There are other times after Harrenhal, before Arthur Dayne disappeared with Prince Rhaegar. A few quick encounters. Simple things, full of expectations and experience. Kisses in the hallway. Fevered touches in the baths. The last time before Arthur left, they were in Arthur’s room in the White Tower. Kissing in the dark, Arthur laughed against Jaime’s collarbone, whispering promises, “ I will come back, Lannister. Keep practicing and maybe I will let you win the next time we spar.”

It is all jokes but when he kisses him; to Jaime it feels like forever. 

Jaime grabs a towel off the floor to wipe his seed from his cock. His whole body is throbbing. The thought of Arthur Dayne cock inside him lately worked to bring him off as quick as any thoughts of Brienne could. Maybe, he should get a camp follower to warm his bed. He was spending too much time in his head with memories and ghosts. 

 

In fact, he knew it is why he would tease Loras sometimes because he knew how bad it was to ache for someone and have no one recognize your grief. Or the deep pain he felt when he saw little Jeyne Westerling Stark and her fine gown of blue that she tore herself in grief to remind the whole court of her pain, soundless and defiant. He remembered the nights he would sit up in the White Tower and wonder where he was and if he would welcome him back, after the sack of King’s Landing. He sometimes wished he had rode out to them in the mountains of Dorne and let them end it, the whole damned mess of his life. He had wanted to be Dayne, everything a knight should be. Instead, he was Kingslayer, everything a knight shouldn’t be. But there is still time. Time to fill the book in the White Tower with his deeds.

He sits up and thinks that today is a good day to break this siege.


End file.
